


Descensum

by Dethroned



Series: Sanguinary [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Bloodletting, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pining, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dethroned/pseuds/Dethroned
Summary: He wanted Yukari to fall into temptation alone with him just once. It’s all it would take, he knew it, just once and he’d have the taste in his mouth. Just once and the memory would be in his head. Just once and there would be no lingering apprehension. (Vampire AU)
Relationships: Hisui Nagare/Mishakuji Yukari
Series: Sanguinary [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571692
Kudos: 8





	Descensum

When alone, people often did things they wouldn’t normally do in the presence of others. Talk to themselves, overindulge in food, drink, and other pleasures. Stalk. Kill. Watch. Somebody was always watching. 

Somebody like Nagare.

He began watching Yukari purely out of curiosity, wanting to get a better understanding before prospecting him. Power didn’t lie in numbers for Nagare, he had plenty all by himself, but other key pieces were missing. He had his bishop and now he wanted a queen, possibly a knight.

And Yukari was good. So, so good at pretending to be good. 

Nagare spent countless nights hidden behind screens waiting for his reveal, his tell. Ichigen trained him well, but he realized it took a special kind of something to push the boundaries of Yukari. A vehement first blood, hot and thick and overflowing and dripping down in a cascade of shattering bliss. Little reactionary disruptions and a distraction so sweet and pure, a final trigger.

A denouement. 

A night where Nagare edged in his chair as he watched Yukari trail behind a youthful boy brimming with life, his bright blue hair a perfect match to his bright blue eyes. Rosy cheeks and a memory of laughter on his lips triggering a spasm of hunger and just like that, a precipitate of the purest of substances.

Yukari as he should be. 

He supposed things like that were bound to happen when constantly denied, when forced to resist the things he craved. And that’s all it required for a perfect beginning.

After that fateful night, his concupiscence for a taste grew exponentially and only Iwafune could help sate his hunger, could help take the edge off. And so he waited and lingered and anticipated, so he appealed and cajoled and placated, biding his time.  
  
Nagare thought of these things as Yukari entered the manor in a flounce of dark, tempestuous colors. His skin glistening, pale and dewy like an early spring morning, his hair swaying with every step. Nagare could not help but stare, the rawness oozing from him poignant, his appetite surging forward like floodwaters approaching a levee. 

Perhaps tonight was the night.

Naturally, he followed him, watching the mesmeric sway of his limbs, Nagare’s own body coiling and desperately wanting to pounce. The smells curling from him teased at his mouth, the concoction of exotic gardens and musky tea fields a seamless blend inside him. 

But he couldn’t very well sink his teeth in, not yet. Not while he remained forbidden, loosely tethered to another. 

As he tailed into the kitchen, Nagare assuaged the impulse and instead focused on the bite of cold blood spilling into a glass. In the darkness, Yukari’s willowy shape stood out like the fluid in a spine, clear as ever, and he drew near. The blue and violet tangles of his hair hung pleasantly around his face, but the set of his jaw and mouth were strung tight like a wire.  
  
“Something is eating at you,” Nagare said. “Tell me.”

Yukari took a sip and furrowed his brow, resolving into the strange coolness of the blood. Controlling the chaos or spiraling in it, blood did peculiar things. “And risk sounding like a broken record?”

The usual grievance, then. 

He shifted closer. Nagare didn’t want to think about his master nor speak of him, the thought off-putting. “How about I get you something fresher, then.” That would take his mind off things, take Nagare’s mind and do wonderfully dark things.

Yukari’s eyes glinted above the glass hovering before his lips, the thought there, then turned to Nagare. “How very tempting, but you know the rules.”

Oh, he was good. So, so good. 

A smirk curled over Nagare’s lips and he stroked Yukari’s back, felt the muscles there tense and loose. Would Yukari run back to his master again? He didn’t think so, not when he kept breaking covenant. Not when he kept seeking another.

Nagare narrowed his eyes as his fingers traced the length of his spine. The sensation caused him to shiver and Nagare felt the rippling in the tips of his fingers, the dance gratifying. He maintained his feather-light touches, reached a pale cheek, the corner of a beautifully charcoal-lined eye heavy with lashes. Yukari’s hair caught in his fingers and he carded the strands away, smoothing the waves.

Yukari watched him with a deep, bordering on carnal, curiosity. Their touches had grown more casual as the moon waxed and waned, as Yukari shirked his docile master with a recurring frequency to fill his needs, his wants. Nagare set his own rules, but Yukari had ones to blindly follow lest he cast himself out, which he edged nearer and nearer to every night. Much to Nagare’s own pleasure.

He never begged, though he knew how to get what he wanted with slow, methodical actions. Crossing boundaries, testing waters, examining integrities. Yukari never refused him, let him get away with a little more each time, but he always stopped him with an excuse on his tongue before things went too far. 

Nagare put an end to his touches and said, “I have something for you, but it can wait.” 

He veered off, his footsteps light as he left Yukari to his lifeless drink. What was another day or two? Iwafune would have to go and buy more food, but if he knew better, and he did, Yukari wouldn’t refuse a gift. Especially a gift from someone he often sought solace from. 

At the pace befitting that of someone with all the time in the world, Nagare vacated the kitchens, anticipating his snare of intrigue. He wanted Yukari to fall into temptation alone with him just once. It’s all it would take, he knew it, just once and he’d have the taste in his mouth. Just once and the memory would be in his head. Just once and there would be no lingering apprehension.

Perhaps tonight was the night.

The hallway flickered in the darkness as Nagare waded its length, shadows skittering along the mahogany wainscoting in the dim light of the sconces. Some might call it ironic being surrounded by so much decadent wood, but he rather liked its presence, dark and full-bodied, much like the stuff that gave him life. 

It didn’t take long for the trap to catch.

“Show me,” Yukari said from the frame of the kitchen, his sweet and floral perfume circulating out in a pliable reach. The scent gripped him once more and Nagare tongued his lateral incisor, his canine, the point sharp and already elongating. He swallowed and looked over his shoulder, his eyes fixated on the glass attentively gripped in leather-clad fingers. “Please.”

Snakes quivered inside him, slithering and gushing at the added afterthought, at a simple plea said so roguishly. Perhaps he’d caught on, changed his mind. Perhaps he found himself not caring about the fall. Either way, Nagare clutched the rope and gave it a little tug. “Come along, then.” 

Yukari wetted his lips, his pink tongue gliding out for the pithiest of seconds, and Nagare returned his gaze to the door ahead of him. The antique handle twisted in his grip and the hinges creaked as the thick piece of wood gave way to his gentle push. 

Yukari obeyed as he pressed into the grand room, leaving the door ajar as the strings on his spider’s web oscillated back and forth. He passed the armchairs and coffee table littered with Iwafune’s files, stopping in front of the fireplace to let the heat soak into his skin as his fingers played along the mantle like an instrument. A latch clicked and a portrait on the left released from the wall, revealing a hidden passage. 

He traveled down its stone length, a set of stairs descending into a wide chamber. It didn’t exist on paper and so electricity had never been installed, the stone walls instead lined with candelabra dripping in old wax. The individual rooms, however, were a different matter, each its own separate entity.

The chamber bloomed with light as Nagare struck a single match and fed it to a wick. The darkness licked around that solitary glow, threatening to extinguish it as pungent black tea and blood filled the stairwell. Yukari sidled next to him in the soft dark, that cold drink with him, his fingertips wrapped in a lazy grip. 

“A hidden cellar,” he mused, staring around. “How mysterious.”

Nagare hummed in agreement and ghosted down one of the short hallways, Yukari silent behind him. If he thought anything of its medieval features, he said nothing. It made no difference to Nagare; what awaited would surely clear any gauche images from his mind once he saw, once he feasted and fell.

A keypad sat affixed to the wall next to a lone door and Nagare entered in a series of numbers, a little green light there and gone with a resounding chirp. The heavy door unlatched and cracked open an inch, but no more. 

A sharp intake of breath came over his shoulder, words caught in Yukari’s throat, misperception setting his mind to work. 

“Before we go in,” Nagare said, twisting around so his body faced Yukari’s. His eyes crested downward, his lips parting in a charged illustration as short breaths left him. “I want you to do one thing for me.”

“Yes?” he breathed, skirting closer to Nagare, to the room, to the contents within.

Reaching with both hands, he placed his thumbs above Yukari’s brow bone and said, “Close your eyes,” before lightly dragging them downward. A Machiavellian smile manifested on his face as Yukari’s eyes remained shut when let his hands fall from his creamy skin, and Nagare settled for another victory.

He extended the flat of his hand behind him and guided the door open until the two of them could pass through, keeping his eyes on Yukari as his heart pulsated in his chest. He quietly shut it behind him, the lock clicking back into place. 

“What is that?” he voiced, but Nagare shushed him. “But how did you—?”

“Yukari.” He moved up and pinched his thumb and forefinger between his chin. “Patience,” he said softly, trailing the pad of his thumb over his lip before tugging on his wrist and pulling him deeper into the viewing area. 

Nagare toyed with the idea of where he wanted him, inside or out, until he urged him to a plush velvet sofa. “Take a seat,” he said, removing the drink from his leather grip and placing it on a marble end table, “and keep your eyes closed a little longer.” He cupped his chin and gave it a squeeze before turning.

A dark green wall flecked with gold inlay stood before him. Nagare’s hand touched the surface fondly, the thrill eating at his insides at what lay beyond its front. “Do you remember when I said you could come to me for anything?” He tossed a glance over his shoulder.

Yukari stiffened but his eyes remained closed. The thickening aroma assaulted his senses, just as it had Nagare’s. “How could I forget?” 

A second toggle had a portion of the wall depressing in and downward, revealing a thick piece of mirrored glass. Nagare bit into his lip, eyes gleaming. “I would do anything for you, anything at all.” 

He inched to the left of the mirror where another door sat framed and opened it, no elaborate lock or control panel barring entry or exit. The smell, overpowering and heavy now that the final barrier had broken, trickled into the viewing room and Yukari broke his composure.

“Nagare-san.”

“Just a moment longer,” he said, drifting into the enclosure. Nagare stole a final glance at him. Yukari’s fingers gripped the armrest and cushion of the antique settee, his body eager to spring forth from the edge, his back straight and knees spread. Eyes still sealed in place. Oh, he could be good.

Nagare shifted and took in the portrait before him. A silvery haired boy sleeping soundly on a bed of pillows, his innocent body curled in on its side like a dying rabbit. A sweet prince of ice and snow overflowing in pale eyes, pale skin, pale hair, all cocooned in a castle of white. 

The wait, the ache—he could feel it crumbling.

The boy smelled like honey and cloves, cream and pepper, the things given to him by Iwafune clinging to his skin like a dewy web. Underneath it the aromatic hormones and pheromones in his body sifted through the small room, heady and pleasing to the nose. All of it set his teeth on edge, filled his head in a veiled mist. 

Tonight was the night.

A sigh spilled from his mouth as he crawled onto the bed behind the small body. He gingerly pulled him into his lap, his skin overly warm to the touch, and the boy stirred groggily with a whine. Nagare hushed him, running his fingers through the tangled, sweaty locks as the boy rested his head back against his shoulder. Nagare buried his nose in his hair and kissed the top of his head.

“Iwafune went a bit heavy-handed with the sedative, didn’t he?” Nagare whispered, unbuttoning the boy’s school uniform to cool him down. He slid his icy fingers underneath his shirt and laid them flat against his belly, his side, before moving them to slither around his throat and forehead.

The boy murmured incomprehensive syllables, responsive to the alleviating touch, pressing his nose and mouth into the crook of Nagare’s neck to seek out more of the cold. The push of his back into Nagare’s chest forced him to wrap an arm around his torso to keep him still.

“Yukari.” A whisper. A sigh. A need.

Nagare finally glanced up from the lovely thing tucked in his lap. Yukari stood motionless in the doorframe and he wondered if he’d completely forgone the two-way mirror or wondered if he’d long since opened his eyes and watched it all unfold. It didn’t matter. His chest rose in slow, heavy motions and his eyes were alight with something akin to fear and desire as they flickered from Nagare to the boy.

“Is he not precious?” Nagare traced the length of one of the boy’s arms deliberately, up and down, while his other hand carefully curled around the dainty throat, his thumb circling the boy’s pulse-point. “I picked him just for you.”

“Nagare-san, I…” He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing with the motion.

“No more hiding,” he said, beckoning to Yukari. “No more pretending.”

_I see you._

The pulse at his thumb deepened, smooth and steady, and Nagare drove the point of his nail near it. The boy whimpered as a thin trickle of blood appeared and Yukari gripped the door frame to restrain himself, to ground himself.

He brought his thumb to his mouth and licked at the blood. “You deserve beautiful things, Yukari, and I want to give them to you.”

The deep red took to the cotton shirt hanging loosely on the boy’s frame like ink to paper, and Nagare pulled at the tiny wound with his lips to stem the dribble. The tranquilizer in his system still clung to his blood and needed purging before either of them could truly drink from the boy. 

His eyes darted up to see Yukari’s mouth open, to see his teeth lengthening. “Come to me,” he said, and Yukari released his hold and glided over to the small plush bed to climb on and kneel in front of them. His eyes wandered across the delicate body before him and up to Nagare, who was pleased with the dazed and wanting look on display for him.

Yukari leaned toward the boy with care, closing his eyes as he drifted through his scent, wavering on a cloud of mist, pressing his angular face against the boy’s full one. Nagare regarded him with wild eyes, impressed with the restraint he showed. 

Iwafune did well to feed the boy things that only enhanced his smell.

“I cannot,” he hesitated, withdrawing.

“And why not?”

“Ichigen-sama—”

“—isn’t here,” Nagare interposed, “and you’ve outgrown him.”

Nagare traced his fingernails down the boy’s arms, finding the network of lesser veins and opened them to start expelling the drug. The fragile thing at his mercy sucked in a ragged breath and whimpered through his haze, the sting clearing. To think Iwafune drugged him so deeply vexed him, but bloodletting like this wouldn’t get them very far. Regardless, he took extra care not to puncture too deeply and spoil things. 

Yukari bit gently into the soft skin of his lip, a reaction incited by the smell of fresh blood. Their breathing slowed as they stared at one another and Yukari retreated onto his haunches, his fingertips pressed lightly against his mouth. 

The wire cinched tighter with every moment, the snakes in Nagare’s belly twisting with anticipation as he watched Yukari teeter on a thin line. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a glass phial containing a clear and colorless liquid, twisted the cap off, and brought it to the boy’s mouth. He parted his lips with a single finger and emptied the contents into the pink depths as the boy’s brow knitted. A small grimace formed as he swallowed and clacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, and Nagare cleaned the spills from each corner with a practiced thumb. 

Yukari’s eyes fell to the lap in front of him, drinking in the boy rousing from his slumber. Nagare’s hand reached under Yukari’s chin and lifted it so their eyes met. His other hand still cradled the boy’s jaw, stroking it softly as he murmured and stirred.   
The desire in Yukari’s eyes was palpable and yet he still fought against it, unsure of what might happen should he give in. Nagare released his hold and rested it on the boy’s marred forearm. The blood had formed several beads along the thin scratch and Nagare swiped his thumb over the clotting surface.

“Do you not want him?” Nagare pressed the bloodied thumb against Yukari’s lips, roving in small circles to paint the flesh there before dipping it into his mouth. A moment’s hesitancy, a strident breath, and Yukari’s tongue flicked over the pad, his mouth closing over the digit. He swirled his tongue across and over several times, pulled and sucked.

Nagare eased his thumb from his lips when it was licked clean and placed his hand against Yukari’s cheek. He nuzzled into the embrace, eyes closing, breathing deeply. “I do.”

A rabbit snared, and it thrashed against his ribcage, spilled endorphins into his blood stream, cracked his jaw like lightning. The submission, the acceptance, the perfect storm. Electricity sizzled through him as Nagare marveled upon the creature before him.  
  
Finally his. 

He wanted to taste him more than anything, wanted to spill his blood into him and seal his fate, but the storm broke with a frightened gasp and a struggle of limbs, consciousness eroding away at the boy’s dulled senses. Nagare restrained him with ease, his moment of longing clattering to the floor as he captured the boy’s wrists and hugged them against his small frame as he squirmed. Yukari observed quietly from the foot of the bed, watching eagerly, and the border of Nagare’s lips curled in a tender smirk.

“Calm down, Sukuna-kun,” Nagare said softly. “You remember where you are, don’t you?”

Sukuna’s heaving chest subsided and he stilled his movements. He craned his neck to get a better look, relief striking him inert at the recognition of the person holding onto him. 

Nagare released his grip and gently touched the tip of Sukuna’s nose. His eyes wandered down his exposed body, to the wounds on his forearms, to Yukari’s intense and hooded gaze. Sukuna reached out and Nagare allowed him to grasp his cool hand and press his cheek to it.

“How are you feeling?” He caressed the boy’s cheek, his neck, and Sukuna closed his eyes.

“Mm,” he nodded, and Nagare gripped the junction of his neck and jaw, easing his silvery head back to expose his throat.

“You know what to do,” he whispered into Sukuna’s ear, throwing a heated gaze at the patiently awaiting Yukari. Sukuna eyed him and disentangled his body from Nagare’s lap, crawling within an arm’s reach of Yukari and extending a hand to summon him closer.

Nagare shifted his position as he considered the scene before him. 

Sukuna on his knees, a wanting grasp poised on his fingers. One of his black stockings had fallen lower on his calf than the other and the back of his shirt was damp with wrinkles. 

Yukari on his feet at the side of the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as the boy sought him out with a lazy hunger.

Yukari’s eyes connected with his seeking permission, and the current in him swelled as he watched him vacillate dangerously close to the edge of desire and instinct. “He’s yours.”

Yukari eased his hand out and wrapped his slender grip around Sukuna’s wrist, pulling him to the perimeter of the bed and flush against his chest. Sukuna steadied himself on his knees, placing a hand on Yukari’s shoulder as he peered up through his messy hair.

Nagare couldn’t see the look on Sukuna’s face, but he imagined an uneasiness, a yearning, and encouragement lingering there. He had agreed to it, after all, but it didn’t make him any less human. 

Yukari left Sukuna’s small hand to rest against his torso as he moved to palm his cheek and neck, his pupils dilating and darkening his irises. Sukuna tilted his head slightly, exposed his throat. Yukari eyed the small incision in his neck left by Nagare, still red and inflamed, and he bunched the collar of his shirt in his fist before yanking it off the boy’s shoulder. 

His small chest laid bare for all to see, trembling in anticipation, knowing what he should do yet entirely unsure. Nagare settled further back into the soft pillows, solely content on watching.

Graceful fingers planted themselves on either side of Sukuna’s hips and squeezed. They shadowed up his sides and along his ribs, eliciting shivers and pebbled skin in their wake, drawing a sweet yet skittish sigh from Sukuna’s mouth.

Yukari dragged his gaze over to Nagare, tangling his fingers in the boy’s pale hair. Uncertainty and deep longing etched into his face, the question of whether he should be doing this forming in a magnificent display, but Nagare said nothing, gave nothing away. He wanted this to last for as long as possible, and Nagare coiled as Yukari tightened his grip, making Sukuna wince.

Sukuna gathered his courage and slipped his hands under Yukari’s shirt, imploring, and gloved hands gripped the sides of the boy’s face. He titled Sukuna’s head back and locked him there, gazing down upon him as the boy continued to touch and feel the body holding him. Their eyes were fixed on each other and Nagare watched as Sukuna’s hands hesitated at Yukari’s waistband.

He didn’t think the boy bold enough to slide his hand into his slacks, but Nagare’s gaze remained there waiting intently for it. Instead, Sukuna traced his palms down the front of his thighs, his fingers raking along them, curling inward and tracing back up their length. 

Yukari’s mouth mirrored Sukuna’s, opening slightly at the boy’s teasing touch, the tips of his teeth peeking over pouted lips. A lascivious grin split Nagare’s face in two and he sat up a little straighter, eager for Yukari’s games to begin.

“You offer yourself freely.” It wasn’t a question. “No fight at all.” Yukari smirked, letting go of the boy’s face and planting a finger at the center of his chest. Nagare knuckled his chin, eyes like midnight, as Yukari gave a little shove that pitched Sukuna back on the feathery bed with sickening ease.

A whimpering _oof_ escaped his lips as he fell without grace, the peripeteia something unforeseen. The sweet calm placed on Sukuna melted away like wax and hardened into an anxious welter, his heavy eyes drawn wide and brow furrowed. His pale chest constricted, and his delicate fists gripped the snowy, cotton blanket. 

Nagare, whose laughter darkened the room, appraised Yukari with a keen eye as he folded his arms over his lithe body with a purse of his lips. Yukari gave the boy a once over, considering how he wanted to proceed.

Yukari, ever the tease. He hid his emotions well and played with others to his gain, much to the chagrin of Ichigen. 

Sukuna hoisted himself upright, smearing blood into the sheets, and glanced nervously at Nagare. The poor thing silently pleaded for direction, a command, something, but this was part of the game. Spectating.

Nagare watched as the boy tried to steel himself, his little body slinking toward Yukari once more after he gave up on Nagare. “You don’t want me?” A sulk plastered itself to his mouth, a coy set to his movements as he reached for the face before him, but Yukari snatched his wrists. Held him there. Tossed him back. 

The boy’s face twisted, a new thought taking him. He crawled over to Nagare, a notion so sweet and devilish, but much too soon for him. He hadn’t taken his fill of watching. 

Sukuna had all but made it into his lap when a hand seized him by the ankle, a yelp peeling from his throat as he was spirited back in front of Yukari. Nagare bit into his lip at the sight—Sukuna trapped momentarily on his belly, panting feverishly and squirming. Yukari lost in a twisted form of pleasure as he drank in the wriggling form, only to let go of the boy’s ankle moments later, watching him scramble.

Sukuna flipped over onto his bottom, his elbows heaving him up for support as he backed away into the wall. His little black stocking had come completely off and lay discarded halfway across the bed, and Nagare thought it endearing seeing those pink little toes.

Yukari’s eyes glazed over upon seeing him tucked into the corner and he kneed onto the bed with slow precision. He shrugged out of his jacket and Nagare curled in, watched him pull at each point on the leather of his gloves with his teeth, slipping his fingers free and abandoning the items. 

Cornered and uncertain, Sukuna could only watch as Yukari closed in on him with nowhere to escape, and so he did the only thing left to him. He lifted his mismatched feet and planted them firmly on Yukari’s chest to stop him from coming closer, his head turning to the side and his eyes almost shutting.

Cool fingers wrapped around those ankles and gave a rough yank, Sukuna’s body so light he was pulled flat on his back, his legs straddling one of Yukari’s. Now wedged underneath, Yukari leaned down and braced himself above Sukuna, placing his hands on either side of his head. The air crackled around Nagare, the fragrant aroma of fear and desire mixing and mingling into one.

His mouth watered; his teeth ached.

Sukuna’s hands latched onto Yukari’s wrists, his cheek pressed into the bed as he tried to wriggle himself free. He managed an inch or two before Yukari pressed his knee onto his thigh, immobilizing him once more as the boy struggled. He homed in on the mark left by Nagare, Sukuna’s neck exposed in a beautiful arc, his eyes pinching shut. He quickly darted his arms in between them and shoved against Yukari as his pointed tongue laved across his skin.

The little moan that left Sukuna’s mouth, even as he fought against Yukari’s advances, titillated Nagare with an electric shiver, and he leaned forward as Sukuna’s wrists were plucked out from between them and forced to the bed. Sukuna twisted his head in the other direction to get Yukari to stop pressing into the pinprick made by Nagare, and swiftly whisked his free leg up into his chest, creating another barrier between them.

Yukari’s chest rumbled with laughter, the first sound he’d made since he began. “You were so willing a moment ago,” he whispered against his skin before pulling back to look at Sukuna. He removed his knee from his thigh and the boy sighed, a cry at the back of this throat. A red outline of his knee lay imprinted on Sukuna’s pale leg, no doubt tingling pins and needles as blood rushed back into the previously constricted pathways. 

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Sukuna panted in short breaths. He tried to pull his arms free of Yukari’s hold to no avail, his face scrunched up in determination, and Yukari only stared on amused, smitten, hungry.

Yukari tilted his head and said, “Playing the game. I like you better this way.”

 _Descensum_. 

He fell into the boy, both Nagare and Sukuna gasping simultaneously, one in delight, the other in pain. Sukuna writhed against Yukari’s body, fighting to push him off as little shivers and hot breaths wracked through him. 

“N-Nagare-sama,” he whimpered, eyes searching him out, but Yukari released a wrist and cupped his palm over Sukuna’s mouth, quieting him. Any noise he made came out muffled, his chest heaving in sweet curves. 

When Nagare made no move to interrupt, Sukuna realized one of his hands was free. Shaky, he dragged it along to land on Yukari’s shoulder, stroking up to the curve where it met his neck, then plunging down in to press his fingers into his throat.

But he was weak, and his action had little effect. Yukari took one last pull and dislodged himself to look at his work. Thin tendrils of blood trickled down Sukuna’s neck in pair images before he leaned back in with a salacious lick, the boy’s neck involuntarily arching in response. 

Sukuna mewled into Yukari’s hand and he leveled his gaze centimeters above Sukuna’s. Gingerly, he removed his makeshift muzzle, placing a finger on his thin lips and gently probed the warmth within. Sukuna let his mouth be invaded, remaining motionless until he bit down on Yukari’s finger.

A huff left Yukari’s lungs, momentarily stunned, and then he laughed. Nagare watched Yukari pry his jaw open and steal his finger back. He wanted to see a ring of red on that pointer, but Sukuna’s teeth weren’t strong enough to break their skin, and so he settled for his tenacity instead. 

Yukari placed a wet kiss on the corner of his mouth and sat up. Sukuna laid there, not having anything left in him to fight, and Nagare rose from his nest of pillows. 

A pale blush filled Yukari’s cheeks as he summoned him closer. He brushed his fingers against the faint color and cleaned the blood from the corner of his mouth. The heady gaze and flush of his skin sent charges down his spine, Yukari’s scent celestial.

The distance closed between them and Nagare buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling, the waters rising and threatening to break in a crescendo. Yukari opened himself up and let him take his time pressing soft kisses and little nips to his throat, small noises of encouragement filling the space. Nagare wanted to savor the moment, to watch him shudder in his clutches at each slip of his tongue, with each press of his fingers against him.

“I enjoy watching you feed,” Nagare whispered into his skin. He gathered Yukari’s hair in one of his hands and moved it to the side for clearer access, peeking over his shoulder at the lovely little Sukuna. His chest rose and fell as if in slumber, but his sunken gaze fixed on Nagare as he lay there watching, waiting for his reward.

Nagare grinned wickedly and said, “Should we keep him?” before sinking his teeth into his long-awaited forbidden fruit.

**Author's Note:**

> I purposefully left some tags/pairings out so the story wouldn't be spoiled from the start, so don't be too mad.


End file.
